


Purpose Fulfillment

by Flapjaw



Category: Lilo & Stitch (2002)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Interstellar Conflict, Jumba tries to take over the galaxy, Lilo versus Stitch, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:18:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flapjaw/pseuds/Flapjaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ON HIATUS] Managing to avoid premature discovery, Jumba enacts his plan to take over the galaxy, strategically deploying his experiments against the Galactic Federation, and allowing the smartest of them some independence and command over others. His genius creations begin rampaging through space, overcoming any resistance, until 626 comes across a supposedly primitive species that makes an art out of war. Determined to defeat the peoples of Earth and prove his worth, 626 declares his own personal war on Earth and all of humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Backwater

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this first chapter over the course of seven hours that should have been spent sleeping, but the idea has been rattling around in the back of my mind for years. The first chapter is a lot like a prologue, setting the stage and fitting as much background information in as possible. The later chapters will help to flesh out the characters more and help them shine in this uniquely visceral setting. Any and all feedback is appreciated.

The chaos was overwhelming for the average citizen of Earth, Hawaiians and tourists who had been trapped by the current crisis running and screaming as orbs of red hot plasma slammed into already damaged buildings. However, they did not scream for mercy. Curses left human lips as they damned their attackers, even in death. The planet had been under siege for over a month and even the general populace fought by throwing chairs, fruit, umbrellas, and anything they could get their hands on back at the six mercenaries tailing them.

The mercenaries moved professionally, each of them a former soldier of the Galactic Federation that had defected to join Jumba Jookiba and his allies, not just for survival but for power. The reptilian creatures were displeased with peace, and reveled in each death caused by the green plasma bolts shot from their weapons, chasing down the civilians at a measured pace, slowly dispersing from the genetic experiment they were escorting, exactly as their enemies had expected.

* * *

Hidden in the bushes behind the back alleys, Cobra Bubbles made a hand gesture that told the nearby soldiers to initiate their attack. The sound of a rocket launcher firing came from somewhere beyond the trees, a laser guiding the rocket into one of the engines of the elegant and sleek transport vessel that hovered behind the genetic experiment. Another followed from the other side and the ship was felled, crashing into the street below as twenty human soldiers surrounded the creature that looked almost like it was made of molten lava. The thing was nearly indestructible to begin with, but it also had an orange combat vest that protected its vital areas while allowing the three biological plasma mortars growing out of its back through three respective holes. It had a similar weapon for a nose, but because of its position the nose cannon was a great deal more useful against ground forces such as those the creature now faced. It was experiment 620, an improvement on the 619 design using elements from 502.

Simultaneously a squad of seven with two drum-loaded grenade launchers between them moved in behind the saurian aliens. The armor of the mercenaries could easily repel most bullets, so the launchers were quite necessary. Two explosions killed one mercenary and scattered the others as they separated to take cover in the alleys, but one of them was too slow, being tackled by a Hawaiian surfer named David. The human soldiers advanced, taking up firing positions and waiting for the aliens to break cover, unable to help David for fear of friendly fire.

The mercenaries were on the defensive and the high priority target was completely isolated; the plan seemed to be working.

That's when experiment 620 began to laugh maniacally, shooting down one of the humans with an orb of plasma that disintegrated his chest and torso completely. The humans were already firing as they approached, and the experiment was battered by explosives and projectiles. At first it seemed unfazed, forcing the soldiers to roll away from falling plasma and killing three more with its nose-cannon, but the humans knew to expect durability and continued their attack, alternating fire so they could reload without granting the alien any respite.

Meanwhile, David Kawena struggled to pry the plasma weapon from the saurian alien beneath him, but it had the advantage of superior strength and had regained its senses. Its knee connected with the man's gut and it rolled on top of him, but David held stubbornly to the weapon, keeping it aimed away from everyone.

A screaming maniac named Nani Pelekai ran in the opposite direction of most of the crowd, brandishing a broken rake and stabbing the sharp end down on the alien's back.

The material that could resist weaker plasma weapons was not punctured, and a swinging tail knocked Nani off her feet.

Two of the alien soldiers were looping around to help the surrounded experiment, but Cobra spotted them and drew his radio to contact the snipers in the trees. "Don't let them regroup. Fire on anything that moves." Two simultaneous shots hit the visors of the aliens, and Cobra was genuinely surprised when the armor-piercing rounds actually broke through the otherworldly glass and splattered maroon blood over the grass. He heard a third shot as an enemy he couldn't see was killed somewhere on the other side of the little tourist trap, and got three kill confirmation pips from the respective snipers. Considering the first pip from the assault team with the launchers there were only two saurian soldiers left.

"We've got trouble on the street, Bubbles." The sergeant watching the brawl spoke into his radio when Nani fell.

"Hey meanie!" Lilo Pelekai was on the verge of tears, still unaccustomed to the ruthless raids from the alien mercenaries, but since the various military powers of Earth had regrouped to fight back she found the courage to throw her ice cream cone. The alien's visor was obstructed by the dessert, and it instinctively reached up to remove it without thinking, his guard dropped by the absurdity of the situation. David took the moment to yank the plasma weapon from the loosened grip and open fire. The first bolt slammed into the protective suit, some of the plasma back-splashing and burning David's skin. the assault team opened fire with their assault rifles to give David a chance to squirm out from under the concussed mercenary, and their bullets punctured the suit where the plasma had weakened it.

The humans ceased their fire as the saurian stared down at the gaping hole in its torso, only for Nani to step between it and the guns, stabbing her broken rake through the wound and up into the saurian's brain. After the savage display of protectiveness for her sister, Nani ran to Lilo and scooped her up, running from the scene. David stayed behind with a few others who were cheering, clutching his new plasma weapon uncertainly.

The sergeant sent the kill pip before Cobra responded. "There's only one left. Flush it out with grenades and we'll finish it off."

"The priority target is no longer firing back," another soldier reported from the team surrounding the experiment. "I think we got it."

"Don't stop firing!" Cobra responded. "It could be a trick, or simply recharging. These things have survived much worse. Don't assume it dead until you've blown it in half." 

* * *

 626 saw 620's distress signal light up on the monitor for his interstellar fighter craft, which was currently in atmosphere over Australia. 626 had gleefully been dueling with several fighter planes while avoiding fire from anti-air tanks, but immediately twisted his ship around and fired up his mach 40 in atmosphere drive. He would arrive in Hawaii in a little more than ten minutes from his current position. This was not the first distress signal he had received from his fellows, and he was beginning to think that this particular backwater planet would put up an annoyingly good fight.

* * *

 "Why won't this thing just--" and the speaker was dead.

"We're running out of armaments!" a sniper shot rang out and the last saurian was felled, freeing up the assault squad meant to distract them.

"Team Beta," Cobra began with surprising calm. "Collect the plasma weapons and join team alpha in the attack on the priority target."

"Now we're talkin', yeah!"

"Snipers, open fire on the target from your positions. We have to keep hitting it until it breaks." Several minutes passed by as Cobra's orders were followed; he was one of the few humans who had encountered aliens before the siege and the information had been passed to those now under his command, so his words were taken quite seriously. Several soldiers ran out of assault rifle magazines and drew their sidearms, tossing their grenade belts with their off-hands as the grenade launchers also ran dry. a plasma weapon nearly overheated and began an auto-vent cycle, causing the soldier using it to drop it in alarm, but still the beast refused to just die.

Suddenly frothing at the mouth, 620 charged directly into the fusillade of bullets and plasma, releasing a storm of plasma orbs in all directions. It was a last act of defiance in the face of death, the desperation of a crazed predator, and uncalculated vectors of attack were random and ineffective. Most of the soldiers had to stop firing to avoid death and a few were grazed, but one of them managed to land a plasma shot directly on the experiment's right eye. The eyes were the physically weakest points on an experiment of Jumba's, and the organ exploded in a spray of pink blood and super-heated matter particulates.

In an instant a sleek spacecraft appeared in the sky, much more elegant than the downed transport. The sound of its approach was scattered behind it in flickering waves of weirdly ambient noise, and the humans gaped up at it in disbelief, one of them screaming out: "Redship!"

"Abort mission and retreat into the forest!" Cobra ordered, sounding panicked for the first time since the attack began. "Scatter and run as quickly as you can until Redship leaves!"

* * *

 The first thing 626 noticed was his fallen kin, its life-signs weak, surrounded by human soldiers. The next thing he noticed was that they were turning to flee. His mind was as fast as a super-computer, and he registered every threat his ship could detect as the camouflaged snipers were targeted by the ship's computer. He tapped a few keys to make the ship auto-fire on the furthest targets first and typed a seven digit passcode into a holopad to open up the floor between his seat and the control console. He dropped down, his four arms each pulling a plasma pistol from the space-bending compartments on the opposite wrists of his red combat suit. He blinked his eyes to focus his sight on the infrared spectrum, allowing him to see through the dust and ash from the recent explosions and place his shots with perfect precision. He was also unbelievably fast, three of his four weapons forced into emergency energy venting modes within the two seconds 626 had taken to kill everyone around him and 620.

The blue-furred monster turned to face his predecessor, falling to his knees and speaking in their own language, one that had been created and programmed into every experiment by Jumba to make their coded messages even more difficult for others to eventually decipher. " _six-two-zero?_ "

" _I… I didn't expect…_ " 620 coughed violently, pink blood spilling from his mouth, the same color 626 would see if he were to bleed. " _Federation troops don't fight like that…_ "

626 cooed softly, looking deeply into 620's only remaining eye as he reached down to reverently lift the other experiment. He was more than an ally, he was family, another member of the 600 series, a paragon of destruction and conquest brought low by primitives.

They were brothers.

* * *

Two rockets slammed into the ship's shields where Cobra guessed the targeting computer would be, not breaching the energy barrier but jarring the ship enough to scramble the auto-targeting system, giving the remaining snipers and civilians a chance to escape, while Cobra himself threw an experimental sticky grenade at the pilot of the infamous Redship. It clung to the fur on the creature's neck and released its hundred thousand volt charge through both it and the wounded beast it held. As they screamed in shock and pain, Cobra snatched up a fallen plasma rifle and fired on them as quickly as he could, tossing the weapon at them when it began to vent. When the overheating weapon came in contact with the super-heated matter around the pair of aliens it exploded spectacularly, collapsing Redship's shields and shorting out its computer, its engines cutting out as it fell atop the wreckage of the transport ship before it.

Redship had fallen, but to Cobra's dismay its pilot was already standing. Cobra turned and ran without fanfare, having accomplished as much as he could have hoped to, but he grabbed two more plasma rifles as he passed them, certain they would be useful for researchers later.

* * *

626 groggily got to his feet, his head pounding and his ears ringing. He could see pink blood on his arms and his suit was ripped and charred, the space-bending compartments severely damaged and their connections with their pocket dimensions permanently severed. His weapons were lost.

He turned his vision forward, lamenting his fallen ship before his memories hit him hard and he began searching for something smaller. The explosion had thrown him several yards away, so it took him a moment to spot what he was looking for in his dazed state.

It then took him another moment as he located 620's other half.

He stumbled toward the scene, standing somewhere between the pieces near the largest stain of pink. The red blood of the fallen humans meant nothing to him.

His brother was dead.

620 was the first of the 600 series to die, and he had been killed by primitives.

He had been killed by warriors, warriors that 626 had underestimated. Granted one of his brothers and three of his cousins, 626 had begun his mission as though it were a game, dispersing his meager forces to terrorize the populace with the expectation of a swift surrender. It had worked on five other planets before this one.

Ignoring the tear that rolled down his cheek, 626 screamed a promise of vengeance to the entire planet. He scurried into his ship and pulled the emergency long-range communicator from its compartment, telling his remaining forces to immediately withdraw and regroup at his position. He would call for reinforcements from Jumba to deal with this threat fully, but first he would ravage the speck of land that killed his brother. Hawaii would be a radioactive wasteland when he was finished with it.

His orders given, 626 crawled to the part of 620 that included his head, wrapped his upper arms around his brother's neck, and his lower pair under 620's shoulders. He clung to half a corpse with surprising gentleness, and he cried.

 

♁

 

David tensed and simultaneously tried to look like he wasn't tense as soldiers marched past him on their patrols, breathing a sigh of relief when they were gone and continuing on his way. The bandages on his arms and torso covered his burn marks, and earned him nods of recognition from some of the other survivors of the attack. It took him quite a while to find the Pelekai sisters, but when he did they were playing Checkers, trying to put the incident out of their memory. Well, the violence of it, anyway. Lilo was stubbornly fascinated by the aliens, despite all the deaths they caused, and always seemed willing to discuss them.

"So…" David took a seat as he spoke, studying the game board closely. "Whose winning."

"They are," was Lilo's distracted response. She was likewise focused on the board, and didn't notice that David was doing the same. "Four small groups and one ace pilot? They just weren't expecting a fight. Now that they've got one they'll call for backup. If I could just drop thirty more of my pieces all over the board then I'd do that, so it's the only thing that makes sense."

"I can't stop her from watching the news," Nani confessed with some humor in her voice, giving David a thankful smile. Lilo had trouble making friends her own age, but she got along just fine with David and a few other adults to Nani's relief. "It's like the real world has become one of her favorite movies. You know, because of all of the space aliens."

"Eeyep," Lilo confirmed, finally making her carefully calculated move and taking two pieces in one go. Nani stared at the board for a moment before realizing her earlier mistakes to lead to such an opportunity, performing a dramatic facepalm. "After the scientists here find out if we have space rabies we're going home to tune in to the latest updates."

"But no one got bit," David protested innocently.

"What?"

"Rabies is the thing you get from being bitten," Nani explained. "Just like zombification, only without the 'walking around after dying' part."

"So… what's the one you get from getting blood on you?"

Both David and Nani immediately thought of STDs, so they kept quiet until Nani thought of something. "Zinc poisoning."

"Really?" There was an obviously skeptical drawl to the short question. That skepticism was dangerous.

"Well," Nani made a broad hand gesture and leaned forward a bit. "If their blood has a lot of zinc in it then its possible."

"I think you made that up," was Lilo's dismissive declaration as she returned her attention to the board, waiting for her sister to make a move.

"Well I don't know anything about zinc poisoning or space diseases in general, but in regards to the updates: do you mind if I tune in with you? They aren't exactly calling me in to work these days." David noticed Nani giving him a sweet smile and nervously returned it.

Still staring at the board, Lilo decided to give a verbal answer. "I don't see why not. It's hard to decipher the motives of the invaders with just two people."

 

♁

 

"Hey Bubbles, you might want to hear this." A communications officer passed Bubbles a headset, and it was obvious why she was avoiding using a less private device to relay the message with as soon as the message was heard.

"This is an alert to all Hawaiian bases. Every extraterrestrial contact is converging on your position. I repeat, All three remaining kill teams are converging on the island of Kaua'i." Cobra removed the headset and returned his attention to the soldiers nearby, and it was obvious they knew what was happening.

"You've dealt with aliens before… why the sudden change in tactics?"

"They thought Earth was just a playground; we've changed their minds."


	2. Weak in the Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 062, 177, and 303 answer the call of 626, but the newest experiment quickly loses control of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More polished than the previous chapter since I spent more time on this one. Lot's of hints that something isn't quite right, laying the groundwork for the mystery to unfold. Feedback is appreciated!

626 stood outside his ship, forcing himself to think through his emotional turmoil. He was genuinely surprised at himself for taking the loss of his brother--  
"Naga…" He tried to tell himself out-loud that 620 had not been his brother, just another genetic experiment created to destroy and conquer, but the sentence died in his throat. That was what worried him so: the death should not have bothered him. He should not have cried. Victims cried when their homes were burned and reverent primitives cried when they bowed to their new masters, but Jumba's experiments did not cry.

Until today, but perhaps that was the answer. Jumba could very well have programmed sentimentality into his experiments to make them more protective in the unlikely event that the tides of war turned against them. "Ih." It was the only thing that made sense.

303's ship was the first to arrive, and 626 plugged his ears in preparation for the incoming sound waves. It was the largest of the ships there, built to accommodate many passengers, and its deployment ramp was lowered by the time 062 and 177 arrived. Marching down the ramp in three columns were upwards of twenty creatures with eyes devoid of thought, all of them clutching weapons of various Earth designs. They had been human once, but now they were just the bodies of humans, doing as commanded in large part due to the metallic headbands constricting their skulls. From the back stepped a blonde woman with a more elaborate headband and a standard issue Beretta M9, approaching 626 along with the insect-like creature buzzing away above her head. This creature was 303, and he had a smaller headband of a similar design.

The woman was about to speak when the sound waves begin to hit, making speech an impossible avenue of communication for awhile. In the interim, the remaining ships landed, 062 taking an energy beam directing sniper weapon from the armory that was his ship, while 177 snapped her sharp cutting fingers impatiently. They had only five mercenaries between them, as many of the hired fighters had died in combat with the humans despite being very well equipped. The experiments they were assigned to didn't seem fazed.

As the noise quieted, the woman began her speech in a dull monotone. " _Why is this island our first target_?" The Tantalog sounded odd spoken from human lips, but it was passable enough to be understood.

" _Revenge_." 626 stated simply, a little worried by the lack of emotion being shown by his fellow experiments' faces. Could they not see? Or was 626's reaction a newer feature not present in 303 and older models? " _These natives killed six-two-zero. I plan to punish them_."

" _That logic lacks strategic merit_." 626 growled when he heard 303's answer, but quickly suppressed his irrational indignation. He would not punish 303 for being more rational than himself.

"Ahem," 626 quirked a brow at 062, giving the earlier experiment his attention. " _I agree with_ le buzzer. France _had more targets_."

" _You are saying this isn't fun enough for you_." The older experiments didn't seem to be programmed with discipline and obedience to the extent 626 would have wished for. " _I recall a distress signal calling me to_ France _only seven local days ago_." 062 frowned, but his expression remained antagonistic, and the voiceless 177 narrowed her eyes slightly. " _We are family_. _I am the strongest of us_. _I do not regret helping you_. _I failed to help six-two-zero_. _Now I can only avenge him_."

" _Alright, six-two-six_. _We will help you_." 626 ignored the woman the words came from, giving 303 a relieved expression.

Then he stopped giving any expressions at all. " _Good three-zero-three_. _He was beginning to agitate me_."

" _These newer models are so emotional. It disgusts me_." 303 needed to act before 626 could recover from the temporary amnesia; it was the absence of thought immediately after the effects took hold that allowed the mind-control headbands to work. " _In spite of that his brain is better suited for a control conduit than this one_." The woman nonchalantly lifted her Beretta M9 to her chin and shot out her own brains, the rest of the mindless soldiers falling into heaps on the ground. Something happened then that 303 had not anticipated. The spray of blood made 626 gasp as he returned to his senses without most of his memories.

* * *

626 turned and fled, unsure of where he was or what was happening. All around him were the remains of humans he didn't remember killing, and he flinched away from each one, weaving back and forth to avoid sullying the bodies. They mattered now.

Beams of energy lanced by his ears, but still 626 avoided the corpses, jumping when he had to and making a break for the forest.

* * *

062 was having trouble tracking 626 with his odd and erratic movements, unable to identify a pattern or reason for his dodging techniques, but they were working. Was the newest experiment really that much smarter than 062? Was he on the fast track to being obsolete? He was created to be a mere cook, but his speed and precision had served him well in combat. If he couldn't hit one lousy target…

He managed to hit 626's shoulder as he escaped into the forest, but he had been aiming for his head. " _Damn it_!" 303 buzzed over to him, and 062 snarled at him for being absentminded enough to trigger 626's survival instinct. " _Good job, moron_." Not to be denied an upgrade of some sort, 303 wiped 062's memory next, moving to retrieve the alpha headband from the human woman. Fearing a similar treatment, 177 quickly ran off in the direction in which 626 had fled. " _Then again_ ," 303 said through 062's lips. " _The older models can be just as agitating_." The human soldiers bearing headbands stood again when their lost control conduit was replaced, and they moved with more energy than before, 062's mind serving as a faster processor for them. " _Jumba will be disappointed to hear that only I survived this unexpectedly dangerous assignment_."

 

♁

 

"Inhabitants of Kauaʻi are being confined to their homes, and the remaining Hawaiian Island bases are on high alert, as an unprecedented development in the siege on our planet unfolds. All remaining alien forces are converging on the site where the U.S. military successfully engaged and killed the quadruped that could shoot molten plasma from its body. Either this creature is considered more valuable than the others that have been killed, or the total loss of its entire kill team has riled the invaders. Experts have hypothesized in the past that this is simply an interstellar gang, which would explain their small numbers and varied species composition. If we, mere humans unable to travel the stars, rally together and defeat this gang on Kauaʻi, this day will go down in history as the day we triumphed as a species over terrorists from beyond the stars." David, Nani, and Lilo sat staring at the TV, which was playing a newscast, and the oldest two of them were gaping at the ridiculousness they heard. Nani was the first to speak.

"Sarah sure does a good job of making the worst thing that could possibly happen to us sound like the best thing that could happen for human kind."

"She wouldn't be so excited if she lived here," David replied.

"If this really is just a space gang, does that mean there are friendlier aliens out there?" Lilo asked with a spark of hope.

"Probably," David said thoughtfully. "Though, I'm not sure if we'll ever meet them."

Nani grimaced at the prospect, not so certain that other aliens would be any less aggressive than the current crop. "Let's just worry about the ones that are already here, okay?"

 

♁

 

The _Will of Shadow_ drifted through space somewhere between solar systems, several stealth systems keeping it hidden from probes, deep-space scanners of all ranges and sorts, and even the sense of sight, the unbelievably quiet spacecraft cloaked in such a way that caused it to mimic its dark surroundings. It was large for a stealth vessel, capable of FTL (Faster Than Light) slipspace jumps. The interior was in stark contrast to the cloaked exterior, lights on the bridge consoles blinking in and out as diminutive navy officers, small even by the standards of their typically short races, made constant checks to ensure they hadn't been detected somehow.

"Are you certain this…" Captain Gantu of the United Galactic Federation Navy wore an expression of concentration as he tried to pronounce a name he'd only heard once in his life. "…Earth is the best planet to hide out on?" Gantu was charged with the protection of the grand councilwoman in the wake of the attack that destroyed one of their largest ships. Both of them had been aboard the ship at the time, and they had only survived due to the sheer size of the vessel. "It's listed as a primitive wildlife preserve."

"Information on the planet is classified, and many things in the official entry are false." The Grand Councilwoman had surrendered her given name upon taking her position, a customary practice, and she always put the good of the galaxy as a whole above her own needs and wants. "The dominant species there was considered abnormally dangerous due to the frequency of their wars and the expert manner in which they wage them. To reduce interest in them we listed this species as a mere food source, and it was hoped that eventually humanity would evolve past its obsession with war. We also hoped this change would come about before they discovered means of interstellar travel. Now that very obsession might be just what we need to overcome the current crisis."

Gantu pondered this as he swiveled his chair to face the primary viewport for the stealth ship, stroking his chin. The bridge crew took the new information less gracefully, looking quite nervous. "So we aren't just running to hide, we're seeking tactical advice from a more experienced military force."

"That is correct, and our enemies have no way of knowing the significance of our destination."

Gantu grinned like a shark, suddenly eager to be on his way. "Plot a course for Earth!"

 

♁

 

When night fell 062 was back in his ship under 303's control, making strafing runs over a human military base while 303's score of zombified fighters ran around the fortifications, firing ruthlessly. At the edge of the carnage, 303 buzzed with a duo of his mind-slaves, erasing the memories of isolated individuals and having his escorts place the signature headbands on the victims. All seemed to be going well, but the humans were soon responding to the assault, drawing their heedless enemies into hastily assembled ambush points and mowing them down systematically. 062's shields were battered by an aerial challenger, but the helicopter's salvo wasn't half finished before return fire in the form of plasma shot it down.

Then 062 began to fight against 303's control, and everything stopped.

 

♁

 

Nani was nervously half-sleeping in her bed while a more peaceful David occupied the couch, but Lilo was wide awake, listening carefully to the soldiers outside. She had been in a lockdown before, during the first week of the meager but devastating invasion when the governments of the world were less confident in their abilities to track the aliens' movements. She had sneaked out then too, hoping to run into one of the aliens and discover that the whole debacle was just a terrible misunderstanding. Those hopes were dashed when she had first witnessed the slaughtering firsthand, but the thrill of escape was familiar, comforting, and exhilarating all at the same time.

When Lilo heard their radio abuzz with a frantic report of some kind she took her opportunity to slip out of a window, closing it quietly behind herself before sliding down a wooden beam to reach the dirt below.

Creeping into the forest with a smile of triumph, Lilo made her way toward a clearing where she could star-gaze, something she found soothing when she was worried. Her youthful lack of caution notwithstanding, Lilo was anxious about recent events and could use the catharsis of routine.

Besides, the aliens only targeted population centers and military strong-points. She was sure she'd be safe if she was isolated deep within the lush vegetation of Kauaʻi.

 

♁

 

"Wah…Where am I?" The man looked around in confusion, seeing vaguely familiar sights all around him, yet he could not firmly recollect much of anything. There was someone holding something strange and metallic in front of him, and he remembered foreign thoughts in his mind, and actions that were not his own.

"It works…" She muttered in disbelief, lowering her gun. "Help me get the rest of these things before these people start moving again!"

* * *

062 couldn't remember who he was, where he was, or what he was doing. He didn't recall entirely who he was, or whose thoughts were plaguing his mind, but he remembered his pride. He was proud of something, proud of breaking some mold that had been imposed upon him. He would not have another decide his actions again.

But the other mind was strong, and 062 was confused. He fought for as long as he could, but his resolve eventually failed him.

* * *

In the midst of rescuing their own from alien control, several humans took bullets to their guts at point-blank range, the reactivation of the headband control matrix turning the fight into a brawl that spanned the base. The humans in command of their own bodies outnumbered the remaining victims of mind-control, and had superior command of their faculties.

The battle was ending, and 303 had failed. In similar situations he had called remorselessly and thanklessly for aid, once assisted by the late 620, and once again by 626. For obvious reasons, that was no longer an option.

At least controlling 062 was easier when 303 didn't have to relay orders through him to so many other mind-slaves. After the alien vessel disintegrated as many humans as possible before they found cover, both it and 303 retreated into the foliage.

 

♁

 

626 was clutching his right shoulder as he ran deeper into the night, more from the shock of the pain than the intensity. The wound from the beam weapon would have been much worse in any born creature, or even other experiments, but the focused energy had only burned halfway through the dense tendons. It was painful and awkward to move but he still had three relatively good arms, even with a plasma explosion he couldn't remember having left him winded.

He wasn't sure if the silence was comforting or disconcerting, but he knew why it had him conflicted: whoever had been following him had either fallen behind or stopped several miles ago. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since the amnesia set in, but his surroundings had long since gone dark. This did nothing to impede his excellent vision, and he stopped in a clearing when he noticed another human body on the ground.

This one wasn't like the others. It was much shorter, about his own size, with pudgier and rounded limbs that reminded him of his own. Most importantly, it didn't look dead, just relaxed.

Apparently his approach did not go unnoticed, as she lifted her head to look his way. He didn't really know if it was female or not, but her sluggish and relaxed motions reminded him of something in his hazy memory. There was a number in the back of his mind. 624? "Ah!" She was startled and on her feet, backing away to a tree on the edge of the clearing. She was afraid of him.

Until he could remember why she had reason to fear him, because he was somehow sure she was justified in her caution, he saw no benefit in reinforcing her fear. He tried galactic basic, hoping she would understand. "Wait. Won't hurt. Promise."

* * *

Lilo couldn't believe her ears. Somehow, someway, this alien was speaking English. Broken English, but certainly English. The conspiracy theorist in her was too intrigued for her to flee, so she cautiously approached. "I suppose if you wanted to kill me, you would've by now."

"Ih. Aka chunga." The weirdness of the alien's voice was even more pronounced when he was speaking what she assumed to be his own language. More than anything she found it captivating, but shook her head in denial. She forced the memories of humans dying on the streets to the forefront of her mind, determined to keep at least some anger and caution with it. The creature took her gesture for confusion and clarified his words. "Uh… me mean, do not worry." Then again, the blue furred alien who was actually an inch shorter than her didn't look like any of the other aliens she'd seen, not even the ones on the news. In spite of that there were pieces of some kind of fabric hanging from his shoulders and cuts that looked just like they were just healing… and a few that weren't.

"You're… bleeding." She took a step closer, struggling not to feel compassion for the creature she'd found hurt and alone. It was a struggle she was losing.

"Ih. Aka chunga. Meega isa gengibay." Lilo couldn't help feeling excited by how reasonable the alien seemed to be. Not only was it a chance for peace, but she could be the cause. With that kind of fame, her sister would never have to worry about money the way she had to recently. "Soka. Eh… sorry. Me--"

"I shouldn't worry, because you're fine, right?"

"Echi." Despite his attempts to ensure Lilo he was perfectly fine, the alien winced when he moved his shoulder, sitting on the ground with a tired expression and his ears drooping. Lilo risked sitting across from him, close enough to touch, but making no move to do so.

"I haven't seen you in any of the newscasts, but you've definitely been in a fight recently." Lilo was juggling a few theories, but decided to whittle them down internally before voicing them. Friendly small-talk seemed a good thing to try to buy time, and an excellent way to distract him from whatever he was supposed to be doing in the forest. "What's your name? If you don't mind me asking."

"Khaulifaud Huznet Keetcha, polo Keetcha-Bum-Keetcha."

"Uh… that's a mouthful."

"Isa just number. Six-Two-Six." Lilo was surprised by how soothing his voice was; it was almost as if he didn't remember that she was one of his enemies. Then again, she didn't really know why Earth was being attacked in the first place. Maybe children weren't targets, even if other civilians were.

Regardless, the idea of anyone just being some number bothered her. "Well that won't do." The alien, apparently '626,' blinked once, mildly confused by Lilo's reaction to his designation. She took another risk by grasping a piece of his tattered suit, but he just watched her benignly so she continued. "This thing could use some stitching… and so could you for that matter. How about 'Stitch'? It's a better name than a number right?"

* * *

Maybe it was because he couldn't remember why the number was important, or the hazy memories of several hundred angel myths clawing for attention in the back of his mind, but whatever the cause he didn't see any reason to object to an actual name to go by. "Smish." Not thinking of his menacingly sharp teeth in time, the newly dubbed 'Stitch' smiled broadly, but the small human didn't seem afraid. Apparently he'd gained some degree of trust from her, so he decided to respond more openly to her attempt to open conversation; he didn't remember having anything more important to do. "What your name? Ah!" Stitch growled in frustration, slamming a palm to his face. That was one of the few hiccups in his mental acuity: he almost always garbled the grammar of galactic basic. The fact that this human even knew galactic basic was bugging him, but he couldn't recall why. "What. Is. Your. Name."

"Lilo," she said quickly, trying not to seem rude but eager to move on to what she said next. "You know I understood you the first time right?"

"Quimmish, da meega naga bo chita coota." Lilo just laughed in response, smiling a bit brighter than before.

"Sorry, I couldn't figure that one out." Stitch had the vague impression that he shouldn't be teaching her Tantalog, but that wouldn't be any fun so he kept going.

"'Knows…' no… 'I know' or 'so-so,' and 'but me not think enough good,' er… 'not good enough for me.' I am prideful."

"Okay… but what are you most proud of? And why are you out here alone?" She seemed genuinely curious, so Stitch shrugged, then immediately regretted doing so and clutched his shoulder. She leaned closer, concerned, but he held his lower arms out to stop her. Perhaps keeping his attention on her was a good idea, but he couldn't riddle out why he didn't want to let her get too close. Everything was confusing in his current state.

"Lost memory. Amnesia. Trying to remember." Lilo looked down at his hands on her small floral dress and he quickly pulled them away when she did. Her eyes stayed down as she began to fidget, and Stitch began to wonder what had her acting so strangely.

"I guess that means you can't tell me what your job is, huh?" Stitch didn't answer, he heard something else that demanded his attention. Due to the therapy of time and his sharp mind his memories were coming more easily. When he saw 177 step into the clearing he could remember who it was, and when he saw the headband on her he thought of 303. That made him think of the dead humans, and then he remembered that he, 626, had been their demise.

Finally, he remembered why.

He glanced at Lilo, expecting to feel angry, but the emotion wasn't directed at her. Humanity as a whole had killed his brother, but this child was innocent. However, there was anger for 303. The other experiment had betrayed him. When Lilo saw the other experiment in the clearing she gasped and stood behind Stitch, already expecting his protection. He didn't know what to think of that development so he just turned back to his cousin.

When 177 spoke it was obvious why she never did of her own volition. Jumba wasn't perfect and neither was genetic manipulation to begin with, so 177 was stuck with malformed vocal cords that spat out words with a barely understandable drawl. " _Why diii'… you ru'_?"

"What's it saying?" Lilo whispered, obviously disturbed by 177's voice. Stitch shushed her angrily; the last thing she needed to do was draw attention to herself.

" _I'm going to kick your tiny ass, three-zero-three. I know you're around here somewhere_."

* * *

"Meega noby bibi brinut pitugi, Ting-Net-Ting. Meega kata tu pigi cons patuba."

"Feeee… boooo… goooo."

"Humb tu." Lilo jumped backward in shock and fear as the new arrival rocketed toward Stitch faster than her eyes could follow, but Stitch was just as quick to evade it, keeping it on his less injured left side. The new one looked almost feminine when Lilo got a closer look, but there was a vacant look in her eyes that Lilo couldn't decipher. Then it was moving again and Lilo decided she'd best watch from behind a tree.

"Naga tu, Hak Tienet Kanet Kavi."

* * *

" _This isn't you, One Hundred Seventy Seven_." 626 focused on the headband, determined to remove it as 177 charged again. His fur was extremely dense just like the rest of him, but 177's claws were sharp, strong, and fast enough to cut through it and bite into his skin. He had to be careful. " _But I'll save you_." His two lower arms were sufficient for beating 177's arms away, and his third good arm grasped the headband at the same time.

An energy beam lanced into his right knee from the foliage behind him and his fingers slipped, blood pouring down his leg as 177's claws reopened wounds from the plasma explosion that had killed his brother. He heard Lilo shout, "That's not fair!" making a mental note that she was still on his side. He also heard buzzing behind 177; 303 was trying to erase his memories all over again. Stitch shut his eyes as another energy beam hit his back, resolving to fight with his other senses.

Stitch's antennae were just as advanced as his other sensory organs and were being overwhelmed with data, so he focused them on air motion. The cluster of motion obscuring that sense was caused by 177's claws, which were also extracting blood and pain in gouts. With a roar of anger and pain-fueled speed that surpassed that of the mind-controlled 177 twofold, 626 swiped her legs from under her with one arm and gripped her neck with another, spinning her around between him and the unseen 062. His antennae could track 303 behind him as he removed the headband with a third arm and dropped 177 to her feet. " _Distract him_ ," he whispered, adjusting the headband to fit a much smaller cranium.

177 rushed past 626, leaping for 303 as 626 ducked under an energy beam. Stitch did a backward somersault to avoid a second beam as 177's claws struck 303 and forced him to recover, not noticing that Stitch would land on his back until it was too late. The slave headband slipped on over the primary control headband, and 062's resistance was relayed down from the control conduit headband, multiplied as quickly as the signals could travel by the infinite loop. 303 and Stitch fell to the ground as the former convulsed erratically in the dirt, his amnesia beams firing randomly while two human escorts with matching headbands crawled into the clearing, blood pouring from their mouths. Soon all three were dead and Stitch opened his eyes to view the gruesome scene.

" _It's decent carnage, but not worth these wounds_." He commented to himself as 062 came into the clearing, his head hung in shame and the device that had controlled him removed.

" _Thank you, Six-Two-Six. My insubordination was out of line_." 062 placed the barrel of his beam weapon to 303's bulging eye. " _So you stay dead you piece of shit_."

* * *

Most of what the third new alien said was a barely audible mutter, but Lilo heard the "bliznak" at the end clearly. The effect on the fallen alien's corpse when the trigger was pulled made Lilo wince, and before she knew the weapon was being pointed at her Stitch had jumped in front of the other alien and lowered the weapon.

"Naga takabah." As he stared at her in that moment, Lilo finally saw the creature she called Stitch as truly _alien_. He didn't match up with what she'd seen in science fiction films, nor was there anything reminiscent of humanity in his expression. She had no clue what strange thoughts swam in the depths of his labyrinthine mind.

He pulled something out of the suit on the dead alien and began to walk toward her, the other two watching silently. When he reached her, he held the object forward, offering it to her. It was a simple silver device with a single maroon button, no larger than a key. "Distress signal." Lilo gave a smile, but the happy expression didn't last long. "No. Does not mean what you think. 303 betrayed me. Signal belonged to enemy, still does. Was vulnerable," he gestured to himself, "found mercy," and then to her. "Will do the same for you, once. Only once. Activate signal second time, you summon death. Understand?" Lilo forced a nod in spite of her dejected mood. "Bachoota."

"Wait!" Just as they were turning away, Lilo called back the aliens' attention. "Why am I your enemy?"

"Humanity killed my brother. You refuse to surrender to me. Must extract revenge and conquer planet."

Lilo knew he meant humanity as a whole, but she stood taller and challenged Stitch anyway. "Don't tell me what I'm doing! I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

Stitch's nose was suddenly an inch from her own and she could feel his breath on her face. He was taking calm, slow breaths which washed over her and obscured the mixed smells of his blood and dried human blood on his forehead and toes. "Do you surrender to me?"

"Do I get to go into space?" Lilo was a little surprised by her own enthusiasm, and she assumed Stitch was even moreso when he took a step back and tilted his head. "Outside Earth's atmosphere, I mean."

"…Ih."

"Cool! Can I have a hug too?"

"Prisoners don't make requests."

"Yes they do!"

"No they do not."

"Ih!" Stitch took another step back and blinked repeatedly when Lilo spoke Tantalog so casually, a palm against his temple. "Just pretend you haven't remembered that I'm your enemy yet." Lilo was searching for some indication that she was making the right decision, that her sister would be safe. Her smile was nervous as she spread her arms and waited.

* * *

626 studied Lilo closely, absorbing the similarities between her and his fellow experiments. It wasn't just her shape, but the way she emoted as well, her smile quite a bit wider than that of a typical human and far more awkward. "Okay." Every moment he had spent with her had revitalized his memory all the faster, and when Stitch hugged her in the same way he had embraced the corpse of 620 he remembered what it meant to be 626, what his purpose was and how he felt about fulfilling it. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me realize that humans are smart, resourceful, and intuitive." 626 pulled back and looked Lilo directly in the eyes, smiling sweetly. "Subjugating an entire race of primitives is fun, but only as fun as killing one worthier foe." Lilo's expression of horror and shock only encouraged him further, and his grin grew maniacal, his claws digging into the fabric over her skin. "You just made my job about seven billion times more entertaining!"

"You're… speaking English really well." She was trying to avoid thinking about what 626 was saying but it wasn't working. She had made a mistake.

"Ih! Ih! Thinking very hard. Don't want to ruin moment." 626 still couldn't figure out why Galactic Basic and 'English' were one in the same, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as he pulled Lilo closer by the collar of her dress. "Your fear is intoxicating!" Before she could respond Lilo found herself being held over 626's head, and the experiments were on the move. " _Come on, I have a ship to repair_!" 062 licked his lips hungrily as they moved back the way they had come, 177 snickering silently and dragging 303's corpse behind her; the blood trail didn't matter since their enemies already knew where to find their ships. "I like this name you gave me. Will have to name siblings next."

"Do it yourself, stupid-head!" Lilo huffed and crossed her arms, trying and failing to get comfortable in her awkward position. "I can't believe our luck. The first aliens we run into aren't just conquerors, but also have the stupidest reason ever to conquer us. Doing it because it's fun. Pfft! Give me a break!"

"Reason not because it fun, that just bonus! Reason to rule universe!"

"Oh… well that's a little better. Still generic, though." Stitch's grip tightened and he shook Lilo to jar her in retaliation for her words. "Hey!"

"Ahahaha! Oof!" Lilo pushed her heel into the bloodstain on Stitch's forehead, disorienting him and escalating the situation. "Naga bo chifa!"

Stitch ran Lilo into a branch, but she saw it coming and snapped it off as they passed, poking it into Stitch's sensitive antennae. He reflexively tossed her off as he yelped and she grunted as she hit the ground, 062 approaching them with a bemused expression. " _We should separate you two, I think_."

" _Just don't eat her_ ," 626 warned.

062 smiled as innocently as he could manage. " _You know I prefer the fat ones_." 626 just nodded, resigned, and 062 helped Lilo to her feet, dusting her off benignly. "Do not mind him. The new ones, they are excitable. You will find me to be a much calmer escort."

"So, which one are you, anyway?" 626 took the lead again, and 062 put an arm on Lilo's waist as he guided her forward, his weapon held deftly in his opposite hand.

"Zero-Six-Two, one of the earliest. Being an arms master isn't my primary function, but it's nice to get out of the kitchen for a bit of mayhem, even when the opposition is unexpectedly competent at making war."

"So, this is a war? Seems more like a leisure skirmish to me, almost like you're all on vacation or something."

"That will change when we report the demise of six-two-zero and three-zero-three to our creator. He is very protective."

"Okay, but only one of those is our fault."

"One will be enough."

 


	3. Regrouping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiments must return to their ships, but another enemy lurks in the depths of space.

Chapter 3: Regrouping

"Your highness, I don't understand the point of these bonds." The yellow and purple experiment on Jumba's head snickered at Delia as the evil genius turned away from her and Hämsterviel, both of whom were chained to the wall by their wrists and ankles.  
  
"Yes, being under 029's influence effects your memory in ways it does not in any other race. Break time, 029." As soon as the illegal experiment removed itself from Jumba's head to have some time alone the attitudes of Jumba's prisoners soured, not that he particularly cared.  
  
"This is absolutely outrageous, you outrageously outrageous person, you! Delia was the one with the plan to back-stab you with a stab in the back! You should begin with the releasing of me at once!"  
  
"I will, as soon as you assimilate into your gerbil brain that you are not in charge."  
  
"I am not a gerbil, you overgrown piece of fungus you!"  
  
"You could have at least given me a more dignified cell," Delia deadpanned, "and putting me in here with the rodent is just insulting."  
  
"What‽" Hämsterviel's energy tethers fluctuated as he began to hop up and down, indignant. "It is you or are insulting, you insult throwing insult thrower!" The argument was muffled as Jumba closed the sliding security door with the press of a button.  
  
"624!" He called on his way to the main lab, his voice plenty loud enough for the excellent hearing of his experiments. They could probably hear everything that was happening on the moonbase at any given time. Jumba theorized that he would never be able to focus if bombarded with the same sensory overload. "Am needing your sweet voice for something other than maintaining evil demeanor; you must clear the stupid from my ears."  
  
There were schematics open on dozens of displays in the lab all at once, as Jumba did his best work when surrounded by multiple projects. His skills extended far beyond genetics, and he often sent his experiments into battle with offensive and defensive equipment that he had invented himself. One such schematic was for a new combat suit that included energy shielding and moved the pocket-dimension pouches to the knees, but there was something missing, something that told Jumba he wasn't yet finished with it. In the center of the room was the unformed biomass of his current genetic monster project, experiment number 627.  
  
Playing with a puzzle device on one of the shelves in the room was experiment 344, the method with which he could duplicate materials making him a valuable asset for dealing with insubordination. The recent conquest of Plorgonar had yielded many such physical puzzles, as Plorgonarians were quite adept at solving and inventing them. Jumba was stashing as many as he could get his hands on to test himself and his experiments.  
  
As 344 continued to struggle with the difficult puzzle, 624 entered the lab a short moment after Jumba had. She'd been designed and programmed to exude sexual appeal, from her soft pink fur and encouraging curvature to her graceful and sly mannerisms. Not only was her voice soothing in a strangely insidious way, but it was always accompanied by seductive movements or poses. Any experiment that had been made with a libido that wasn't at least 87% crippled for task performance benefits was attracted to 624, despite some of them denying it and others being of the same gender. "Batookah, bagiti."  
  
"There's my little sweetheart! Batookah, six-two-four." Jumba was not in denial about his opinion of 624's physique and demeanor; afterall, he had designed her to be what she became, and her attractiveness had to at least match Jumba's standards for her to be considered marginally successful. She was considered monumentally successful. She could hold the attention of most victims and sing away their goodwill and inhibitions instantly, which also made her helpful in removing the interference of Jumba's increasingly insistent conscience. He had heard her song so many times since her creation that her mere presence was comforting, allowing him to think and act freely without fear of feeling remorse or regret. Thus, it was with practiced ease that 624 returned to her place nestled on Jumba's shoulder, ready to whisper in his ear.  
  
"Yo Jumbone," came a voice a great deal less soothing than that of 624. "What's the haps in mad science ville?" Jumba very specifically remembered NOT soliciting 625's attention, but in spite of his abrasive sarcasm the little saxophone player never interrupted lab proceedings without a reason. Mostly the reasons were asinine, but they were reasons all the same. "By the way, I made a sandwich with a new recipe that should keep your evil genius brain workin' real good… I mean bad." 625 had an inexplicable drive to absorb culture from any corner of the galaxy he could safely visit and very rarely expressed any inclination to cause destruction, though mayhem in any other form was fair game. He was a recent failure in design that reminded Jumba he wasn't perfect, but 625 had his uses and could be excellent company when in a decent mood. Most prominent was how well 625 had taken to his linguistic programming, as the experiment spoke more fluently than his maker in every language they shared, even adopting colloquialisms and imitating accents with ease.  
  
"This sandwich is circular." That was all Jumba could think to say to the odd sight before him. Apparently 624 was just as baffled, though she was likely more confused that 625 had yet to address her in a way he thought would win her over somehow. He did give her a suggestive wink, but that was literally the least she expected from him. It was possible he simply had more on his mind at the time, but 624 couldn't image what. "Why is this sandwich circular?"  
  
"Made the bread myself, so it's like a cross between an overgrown bagel and a sub sandwich, complete with wheat and oats. As for the contents, lot's of exotic greens from five different planets, wilted by heat to bring out some flavor and help me compress them all together. Spicy mustard and Plorgonarian squid sauce complete the masterpiece. The flavors clash, but in a good way."  
  
"…Be saying that again." Jumba had a far-away look in his eyes as he spoke, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides.  
  
"What, the whole thing? Weren't you payin' attention?"  
  
"No, just last sentence."  
  
"They clash," 625 ventured nervously, "but in a good way."  
  
"AH-HA! Jumba is knowing how to improve combat suit design!" Jumba rushed over to the schematic for the suits and began frantically typing out notations, his face shining with triumph. "Shields that become shock weapons when the distance is closed. Two directly opposed functions that work perfectly together in an actual field engagement! Heh… is genius, yes?"  
  
"Sure is, buddy! And hey, if you aren't in a snacking mood you can always store this puppy next to six-two-four to keep it warm."  
  
"Aka chata, keetcha-bum-pee!" 624 had another purpose separate from her powers, to breed with the most powerful and most destructive experiments of the same classification. 625 did not behave at all like he was programmed to, and as a result 624 saw him as unsavory and incompatible with her as a mate. Jumba was so accustomed to their bickering that he paid it no mind as he finished tweaking the suit design, turning back to the unfinished 627 and pondering how to proceed with his vision.  
  
Just as 625 was starting to feel ignored, Jumba plucked the circular sandwich from his paws and broke it into four pieces, passing one to 624, tossing another up to 344, handing a third back to 625, and keeping the last for himself. "The gesture 's nice but I already had a few during the testing period."  
  
"I made your stomach. You are still hungry." 625 couldn't argue with that logic, and they all dug in, save for 344 who was still working away at his puzzle with an increasingly irritated expression. "There are no thick meats in this one. No meats at all, in fact."  
  
"A song is as much the silence as the notes. If you don't like it, don't eat it." 625 was extremely smug, but with good reason: the sandwich was delicious. "I've also been makin' rice balls so you lab monkeys can have somethin' bite-sized to scarf down. You know that's from the Earth file too? That place is boilin' over with great food and better music. Are you sure it's a totally isolated fringe planet?"  
  
A dark look overtook Jumba as he stroked his chin, staring down at nothing the others could see. "I thought it was at first, but the more you are telling me about it the more suspicious I am becoming. Is just like when…" As if remembering where he was mid-sentence, Jumba stopped abruptly and smiled at 625. "You are worried for six-two-six, aren't you?"  
  
"Why would I be? Considering how much better than me he is." 625's bitter tone made Jumba flinch as if stung, but 624 cooed in his ear and rubbed his neck comfortingly, restoring his composure. "It's just weird to me, that's all. I'll get my chance to investigate when the new guy is finished with it." Something solid harmlessly bounced off the back of 625's thick skull and he turned around to discover that the object in question was a duplicate of 344's puzzle. "Ha!" He scooped up the pastime that had been keeping 344 occupied and strolled to a nearby desk with a cocky swagger. "Watch the master work." 344 was impressed by how swiftly 625 began to make adjustments, the solving of the puzzle seemingly near at hand.  
  
A notification ping at the long distance communications console drew Jumba's attention and he hurried over to answer it, 624 still on his shoulder. The communication request came with coded identification, letting Jumba know to expect long-awaited news. "Yes, six-two-one?"  
  
"Naga gengibay. Kha keetcha-bum-bum aga keetcha-bum-ting araimi shol." The search had been fruitless: the missing 620s had not been found.  
  
"Keesha Mi Guts?" 624 asked in disbelief, not prepared to accept the loss of her most recent predecessors. Jumba gave her a sympathetic look and the other experiments in the lab shifted their focus to the tense exchange. "Watugi?"  
  
"Soka, keetcha-bum-jan. Aba loosha--"  
  
"Ahem!" 625 cut in loudly from across the lab. "Could you explain what happened in a language with a few more words? One that isn't a glorified code, perhaps?" Jumba quietly swallowed his anger; it was no fault of 625 that he had neglected to tell him nor any other experiment the true origins of Tantalog.  
  
"Fine," 621 complied after a short pause. "The fleet they were combating is nowhere to be found, not even remnants from hull damage. I've measured the distances from here to nearby star systems, and the numbers don't match any records. In fact, all of the distances are shorter than they should be, as if something destroyed this part of space. In other words, aba loosha hagata."  
  
"The space is gone." Jumba took a moment to process the report, mulling over the information. 621 was known for doing his research in the field and never gave false reports, so the idea that he could be wrong never entered Jumba's mind. "Is peculiar. Could be new weapon designed to obliterate spacetime itself. Have considered making one before, but such a thing is beyond even my genius. We are facing either a never before recorded phenomenon, or else a superior foe. We know six-two-two and six-two-three engaged the enemy, and were still fighting when the signals cut out, so is unlikely that this was the work of the Galactic Alliance but not impossible."  
  
"What should I do, Master?"  
  
"Will you stop callin' 'im that!‽" 625 interrupted indignantly. "He's gonna start makin' the rest of us do it if ya keep that up! It's bad enough that oh-two-nine has his old partners calling him 'highness' all the time."  
  
"Pleased to be shutting up now, six-two-five!"  
  
"I love you too, daddy-kins," 625 mocked back, as he was wont to do.  
  
"Be silent, little sandwich boy." 621 shot back over the communication link, but Jumba cut back in before the conversation could devolve any further.  
  
"Be coming back to base, but in roundabout way so to be preventing whoever did this from following you here."  
  
"I'm plotting a course that will take me to nine different star systems surrounding a point of space with no special significance before heading there. Then I'll cut to a wormhole several parsecs away and jump back from the other end to the asteroid belt." With that, the message cut out.  
  
"Show off," 625 declared, 344 gawking at his solved puzzle duplicate, having missed how the sandwich maker had completed it.  
  
"Ha! Six-two-one has fooled any eavesdroppers into thinking base will be on asteroid in an unnamed belt that he will lead them to before taking another course to return here. Is a genius ploy!"  
  
"Ochika, keetcha-bum-hum isa tikka." 624 enthusiastically agreed with Jumba's sentiments.  
  
"Oh yeah, the lanky bastard has perfected the art of being both submissive and secretive. He give's the best tight-lipped kisses to his 'master's' ass I've ever witnessed." 344 snickered hearing this, enjoying 625's humor a great deal more than Jumba and 624. The older an experiment was, the more resentment it seemed to harbor for the newer models, but 625 was an exception to the rule because of his nondiscriminatory insults. 625 treated all the experiments with a strangely affectionate contempt, including the other 620s and even himself, which seemed to extract respect from cynics. "I think I'll hang here for awhile and solve the rest of these Plorgonarian trinkets, just let me get those rice balls first."

♁

"We will be landing on the island of Izayoi, which does not officially exist." The Will of Shadow was making its final approach to the planet as the grand councilwoman instructed the navigators, a nervous Plorgonarian fidgeting nearby. "The coordinates should be on your screens. Now, agent Pleakley, you will assist Gantu in establishing peaceful contact with the local human population. Their advancements are not restricted to culture as you have been led to believe in your research, and they have in fact taken primitive projectile weapons to their most effective and advanced extremes. Do be careful not to anger them."  
  
"So, them being a culturally diverse food source for mosquitoes is an egregious lie?"  
  
"Not at all. The lie is that mosquitoes are more important than humans. In the event that you aren't well received you will need to know how to use one of these." The haughty and nameless councilwoman quickly tapped a series of holographic keys on the arm of her seat which opened the arm to reveal a compartment filled with diminutive laser pistols designed to be used by physically weaker species with no recoil or weight problems. Her own race fit the category, as did plorgonarians like Wendy Pleakley, and with this in mind she passed the researcher one of the pistols.  
  
"You will need to spend some time in the virtual reality combat simulator before your mission," she continued. The simulator she spoke of was capable of hyper-stimulating brains with the evolutionary acumen to function under such pressure, and plorgonarians typically had very capable and complex brains that coincidentally produced vivid dreams. For such a creature, several hours of experience could be packed into one hour of real time in the physical world outside the simulation. "Landing should take just enough time for you to become acceptably proficient for your task. I apologize for the short notice, but the captain and I had trouble deciding who would accompany him due to our distinct lack of experienced foot soldiers."  
  
"With all due respect, I don't think shooting anyone will be necessary. Assuming most of the information on human culture isn't a nest of lies, I'm supremely well qualified for this job. Plus, all I have to do is let them know we're the good aliens who don't want to conquer them, if I talk to the right people. Bypass the most populated areas and speak directly to the military leaders. Piece of cake."  
  
"…Get in the damn simulator."

* * *

"Initiating combat simulation versus Earth soldiers in street, iteration 5"  
  
"I know how many times it's been!" Pleakley yelled angrily within his own mind, gripping the simulated laser pistol tightly. "Why am I fighting alone, anyway?"  
  
"Your mission parameters dictate a 85% chance that you will be separated from all available reinforcements within the first week of operation," the computer running the simulation said emotionlessly in answer to Pleakley, who was already weaving through the alleyways in search of his virtual targets.  
  
"Maybe if I could just fight one at a time--" As with the last four failures, Pleakley didn't even see where the shot came from, but at least this time it missed his head. In reaction to the shoulder wound Pleakley pulled the trigger on his weapon before recalling that he ought to aim it somewhere. "Owe!" After shooting himself in the foot and falling to the ground, he heard a metal clang, then a boom, and finally a voice.  
  
"In the interest of time this program is proceeding to the apartment complex combat simulation. Rating thus far: universal liability."

♁

The night was deep and dark as the mercenaries working directly under 062 and 177 waited for their aloof commanders to return to their ships, the guarding of which had been dull and uneventful thus far. The five of them had avoided interacting for the most part, as they each came from a different species with a different cultural, and each had their own reasons to be working for Jumba's abominations.  
  
One of them was a gelatinous mass of sinew with one spherical eye at the top with a large field of view and poor depth perception. The mass of its form was mostly translucent and many of its cells glowed with a orange light that it could use for visual communication. It had stopped bothering to communicate when its mate had been killed on the battlefield. A plasma repeater had been grafted onto it to allow it to be somewhat useful in combat. There were also two stout, beaked creatures who both looked nervous, but for some reason they avoided speaking to one another.  
  
Most of the mercenaries assigned as bodyguards for the experiments terrorizing underdeveloped worlds were only mercenaries in so far as they were being paid to kill things, and they were strikingly sub-par fighters. 620's unit had been an exception because he had proven himself and had requested professional help for the joy of seeing the destruction they could potentially unleash. 626 and 303 had never bothered with a bodyguard unit in the first place, and so were also exceptions. Another two exceptions were Bal and Kryptar, as both were actually competent fighters.  
  
Bal was a talbokk, a burly, furry creature with five legs and meaty fists at the ends of its two arms. His species was conquered by Jumba's experiments a few months back, and of the primitives he was one of the most intelligent. The conflict had not lasted long, since talbokkian tradition valued might and the experiments had proven quite mighty. The talbokkii had surrendered eagerly, and Bal was one of the most enthusiastic bodyguards.  
  
Kryptar, a reptiloid, was the other. From the same planet as the species that seemed drawn to police work within the federation, but a different region on that planet, Kryptar sported many feathers of a stunning navy blue. His scales were likewise colored, save a few shades darker. Furthermore, he was shorter than most and more ornery as well, though neither had anything to do with his sub-species. He had hatched a runt, and certain events in his childhood and following adolescence had left him quite aggressive and mean spirited. Despite all that he had a strange affection for Bal and the experiments, the pair preventing defections with the strength of their presence. He carried a hard-light laser rifle with him as if it wasn't a deadly weapon, but a mere trinket, keeping the safety off and gesturing with it occassionally.  
  
Finally there was 177's pilot, since 177 was not physically equipped for manipulating consoles, and she had a plasma pistol trained on the human woman whom 303 had been using to pilot his own vessel. She was a short little thing, with a small trunk for a nose and emotionless black eyes which always seemed to be staring into oblivion. Only the experiments showed any immunity to her unnerving stare, and none of the mercenaries could work up the nerve to ask for her name, let alone any other personal information. The human who was apparently free of 303's control did not have this reservation and was trying to talk her way to freedom somehow.  
  
"Don't you have a family? People you care about? I just want to get back to my family. Whatever you want with Earth, I can't help you get it. I'm not politically important, I don't have any useful information…" The woman trailed off when the pilot guarding her made a strange noise through her trunk, similar to a typical human sigh but much more resonant. She didn't have to wait long before her captor spoke.  
  
"You must be new to this situation. I think it only fair that I warn you that explaining your worthlessness brings you much closer to death than to freedom." The human blanched, remaining silent after that.  
  
Meanwhile, Kryptar stormed out of 062's ship for the fifth time, a frustrated scowl on his face making his sharp teeth visible. "The overconfidence of our employers irks me greatly, Bal." The massive talbokk simply grunted in response. "Not a single piece of defensive equipment in there, and we're all just standing around out here waiting to be shot."  
  
"You know," when one of the beaked creatures spoke with a nasally voice the other glanced at her before turning away in contempt. "I don't remember any of those fr… experiments telling us that we can't guard the ships from inside them."  
  
Bal gave the speaker a quizzical look and Kryptar quirked a brow in her direction. Before she could get too skittish, Kryptar began to speak. "What's your name, anyway? You don't talk much." Kryptar gave the back of the other beaked thing a suspicious look, but his attention didn't waver for long.  
  
"Merth."  
  
"Mirth? As in--"  
  
"No, it's not common. It's from my own language."  
  
There was a pause as Kryptar waited for Merth to elaborate, and when she failed to do so he prompted her. "Well? What does it mean?"  
  
"…Smart one." The other beaked creature let out a short bark of a laugh, slapping his knee.  
  
"So what the hell are you doing out here?" Kryptar asked with an odd, possibly sadistic grin.  
  
"I didn't grow to match my name."  
  
"Please, dear sister," began Merth's counterpart, turning to face the others with a scowl. "Do explain to our partners in crime why we are stuck helping these monstrosities! I'm sure they'd love a decent comedy to pass the time."  
  
"Would you rather be dead, Bret?" Merth asked with the exasperation of someone who had had the same conversation plenty of times.  
  
"Yes!" Bret sneered, stalking toward his sister and shoving his beak against hers, gripping her shoulders to complete his angry display. "I was ready to die fighting them for what they did to our family, and to our people! But who should surrender to them but my little sister? Then those things--"  
  
"I didn't know!" Merth broke into tears, interrupting Bret's rant and resting her head on his chest as she sobbed, making Kryptar feel quite uncomfortable for having started the exchange. He distanced himself from it by scanning their surroundings.  
  
"I'm sorry I…" Bret swallowed as he rubbed Merth's back, his anger evaporating. "I'm just really tired of being on the wrong team. It's not your fault that they…" He trailed off, not able to say the word he would need to complete his declaration.  
  
"What things are we talking about, exactly?" Kryptar asked conversationally, earning him a glare from an unamused Bret.  
  
"Saurians, like you…"  
  
"But bigger," Kryptar added. "Always getting reassigned too quickly for anyone to keep track of, and sadistic enough to enjoy their jobs almost as much as I do?" Merth disengaged from her brother, staring at Kryptar with an open jaw. His response was simply to point at the bodies from the struggle that had ended 620. When Bret saw the saurians amongst the corpses, he shook his head with a small smile.  
  
"I guess that's a silver lining. I had no idea they were on the same planet." Kryptar just gave a cocky grin, shrugging his shoulders.

* * *

"We should take out the big fucker first, then rush 'em." Convinced that some conspiracy was at play to keep such a small number of alien invaders alive, a group of civilians and retired military veterans had convened on forums to discuss the supposed plot. What no government knew was that this group had grown quite massive, and through private messages had decided to take matters into their own hands. Some of them were from the island of Kaua'i, and they had rounded up several of their neighbors for an assault on the downed alien spacecraft.  
  
There were a dozen of them, five had handguns, another a hunting rifle, while another man held a chainsaw of all things. The remaining five held various improvised melee weapons, and they had managed to sneak close enough to have a real chance at putting them to use. From the cover of the bushes a shot was sent into Bal's left eye, passing where the shooter assumed the alien's brain would be. The brain was not behind the eyes, however, and the talbokk roared in pain and anger as the humans charged.

* * *

Kryptar's left shoulder bled from a glancing shot, and he immediately dropped to the ground clutching the wound, feigning that it was severe. 177's pilot impulsively fired on the prisoner when a bullet grazed her arm, causing the woman's head to explode in a haze of plasma. Bret was killed instantly by a shot to the back of the head, dark brown blood splattering over his sister's face as she fell backward in shock.  
  
Bal charged, but in the wrong direction, as if he couldn't see at all, his ears still ringing from the shot that went through his head. This was a horrible development for another group of humans who were ignorant of the others until that moment.

* * *

"Shit! We have to call off the bombing. Civilians are--"  
  
"No! Those ships have to be destroyed, no matter the…" That's when the sergeant and a few of his squad of six saw that the biggest of the alien invaders was barreling toward the palm trees they were hiding behind. "Fan out!" The man the sergeant had been speaking to a few seconds ago was crushed under a felled tree, another soldier firing his KAC Master Key from under his M16 assault rifle into one of the beast's legs. It quickly switched directions, trampling the source of its pain underfoot. "Hold your fire!" But it was too late, as more shots had been fired from the remaining four soldiers, and two more were crushed by the rampaging talbokk. "Retreat!"

* * *

The human extremists attacking the invaders were more concerned with exterminating them than destroying the ships, so several turned to chase Bal before three were cut down by the plasma repeater grafted onto the gelatinous creature, their handguns hitting the dirt. The man brandishing the rifle had stayed hidden in the bushes, and fired into the gelatinous alien's single eye. Kryptar saw where the shot came from while feigning serious injury on the ground, but it did his ally no good as the man with the chainsaw eviscerated what was left of the blinded creature.  
  
Another man moved to stab Kryptar with a broken rake, but the saurian's footclaws cut open his throat while a tail tripped him, Kryptar rising with a flourish and firing his hard-light rifle into the bushes. The green leaves where stained red as Kryptar hit his mark, and another man fell to a ball of plasma, Merth screaming angrily at the sudden loss of her brother. With 177's pilot rejoining the fight as well, the remaining humans were quickly cut down in a crossfire.

 

♁

"Where's Stitch going?" Lilo questioned 062 as 626 propelled himself miles ahead of the others, not having given any indication as to the reason for his increased pace.  
  
062 shrugged, his beam rifle resting on his shoulder. "I am unsure, mademoiselle. Something must have caught his interest."

* * *

The sergeant and what had remained of his squad were no more, but they were a mild distraction compared to 626's true targets. He rushed past Kryptar feeding a blinded Bal bits of human flesh and dove into 062's armory of a ship, emerging with three plasma grenades in his claws and a flight pack on his back, but when he saw the bloody chainsaw lying on the ground he harmlessly discarded one of the grenades in favor of the human device. He cackled madly as he revved the chainsaw in his upper claws, quickly redoing his calculations as it shook in his grip.  
  
With a mighty push he leapt into the sky, keying his flight pack and steering it with his lower hands, the plasma grenades deftly held between two fingers in each case. He could feel the wind from his full-speed assent on nictating membranes as his ears and antennae were thrashed about by the air of the Earth. The three stealth bombers he'd spotted from the ground were now much harder to track through the translucent secondary eyelids, but the bombers moved too quickly to track by sound and, even disregarding that they were out of range, his antennae were useless for precise strikes while being blow about so chaotically. 626 was relying almost entirely on his previously made calculations, and the assumption that the bombers would not change their course. He was correct.

* * *

Daniels flinched in his cockpit when two bright blue explosions lit the sky where his companions had been a second prior, exhaust from some small but powerful engines softening the layer of bulletproof glass protecting him from the outside world. The gravitational forces pooling his blood in all the wrong places was about to get a lot worse, as a clawed hand punched through the glass and Daniels heard the engine of a chainsaw join the sound of his flight craft. He would not go down without a fight.

* * *

Stitch had overestimated the durability of the chainsaw, having mistaken a household maintenance tool for a weapon of war. As he tried to dig it through the glass the heat from his exhaust trail melted the metal and glass together. It gave him something to cling to as the bomber began to spin out in a tight roll using its elevons that it really wasn't designed for. 626 closed the eye taking the brunt of the wind completely, keeping his nictating membrane tight over the other as he reoriented himself, clawing his way down the ruined chainsaw carefully. Every limb but one held on whilst his last punched through the quickly cooling glass before it could fully regain its firmness.  
  
He fell into the cockpit, beating angrily at the glass surrounding the ruined chainsaw in an attempt to free it. He could feel harsh stings in his back as he was pelted with handgun bullets, but he didn't care; this human would pay for making an effort to damage Redship further. The tool was free, Stitch turning around to roar and cackle in triumph as he prepared to impale the pilot with the metal tipped in shredded glass and shredded pieces of broken chain.  
  
A pistol was shoved into his laughing mouth as Daniels said, "Right where I want ya!" and pulled the trigger. His last bullet caused a great deal more pain than all the others, embedding itself in the experiment's throat and concussing it's body back into a launch switch. Daniels pulled a release lever as the bomb began its descent, his escape smashing Stitch's flight pack into the console and tossing him out of the cockpit.  
  
626 spun head over foot, in great pain, and having no idea where he was or which way was up. He couldn't tell if the bomb would hit his ship or his allies below, but in his stupor he searched for it. He keyed desperately at his flight pack, but it sputtered and kicked, inelegantly bursting him in the general direction of his target. He swam in the air, still several yards away, but a beam of energy lanced through the bomb as 062 shot it from the air, the explosion slamming into 626 and rattling his bones.

* * *

When 626 awoke he was between his ship and the beach, sand marring his ruffled fur and his vision swimming. He thought he saw a shape that reminded him of 624, and a voice said in galactic basic, "I hope you had fun," before sand was kicked in his eye.  
  
He twisted away from his aggressor, crawling toward the water pathetically and coughing up a trail of pink blood. He couldn't stop until he could think, and he couldn't think until he could stop feeling, and he couldn't control his emotions because he didn't understand them. On and on he clawed his way through the sand, another's shadow not far behind him, until his claw caused a ripple at the edge of the sea and he suddenly stopped. A wave came in and the salt water washed into his wounds and over his ankles. He bolted upright, stumbling backwards and shaking in fear as wet sand clung to his padded feet. "I'm sorry." He turned his head to the human girl, Lilo, studying her face. Her eyes seemed moist. Crying, he remembered; he'd done so once himself, but she was stronger: her tears didn't escape her eyes. He was uneasy, and not due to his wounds, but because he didn't know why she felt the need to apologize, nor why he was so relieved that she had.  
  
"Come on." He grabbed her wrist, but his grip was shaky and loose as he began to lead her back to Redship. 062 and 177 were near, having watched from some distance away. By the time 626 reached them Lilo had entwined her fingers with his. He didn't know what to make of that either.


End file.
